If there was
God I think
we’d be damn
sure of it

Fishkill Rural Cemetery

Ducks there
Never flew south
Sitting in my car
Smoking a joint
One waddled
Through the slush
Toward the highway
It was white

All the faithful departed
They had incontrovertibility

if you don’t
hear from me
i've arrived

make money
not war

­­This planet is an absolute
Fucking nightmare
If you’re a human
Thank God

Poem At 48

This Is the age
When I decide
To recreate
Or destroy
What’s left myself
I've destroyed
Thinking I'd survive